


Accidental things can turn out good

by Pelissa



Series: Temptation [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sexting, Wesker has no idea how to sext, a bit oocish but mostly in character, good thing Chris knows how
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:50:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelissa/pseuds/Pelissa
Summary: Wesker receives a message from Chris and doesn't know how to react to it. Things become awkward and insults are delivered, but in the end both can't seem to hang up the phone.





	Accidental things can turn out good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [re_albertwesker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/re_albertwesker/gifts).



> This is my first smut fic.  
> I feel dirty.  
> I rushed it a bit towards the end, because I became more and more embarrassed by writing a smut fic.
> 
> This is for my friend Melissa.

**____________________________________**

 

This must have been an accident. There was no other explanation.

He _couldn’t_ have gotten hold of his number.

He _wouldn’t_ have even sent anything if he did.

And he most certainly wouldn’t have sent him _this_.

 

Wesker was still starring down in bafflement, being unable to tear away his eyes from the screen of his phone, reading the message over and over again and narrowly avoiding looking at the attached picture. Again. What a foolish idiot would send a picture like that along with such a suggestive message? From what he heard, when he couldn’t tune out the babbling of his subordinates, this was rather tame compared to the usual procedure, but still unfitting for a man of his status.

A high ranked BSAA soldier, as far as he knew. He needed to know about his enemies. That this man plagued his thoughts more often than others was due to the fact that he had ruined his plans repeatedly. A feat no one else accomplished so far. So, of course he gathered information on him regularly.

 

The message left Wesker speechless, making it unable for him to come up with a way to respond. This MUST have been an accident, a mistake, an unfortunate coincidence. Anyone who encountered him, met him face to face, knew that this was the very last thing he wanted to receive by anyone, especially his nemesis. And here he was, starring at the screen, confronted with an inappropriate text and a very suggestive picture.

His brain finally provided him with the technical term. ‘Sexting’. It sounded like a rather pointless thing to indulge in.

 

And still.

He was tempted to answer. After all, this message was from the man who swore to follow him to the end of the world and haul him into jail, to make him pay for his ‘crimes’ - it sounded more romantic than it probably should be. He was inclined to agree that some of his past schemes were rather impetuous and solely for the purpose of revenge, but his visions changed, shaping up to a grand finale. He would free the world of those weak and nasty worms and create a population full of higher beings, freed from the control of their human emotions.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

 

The phone pinged again, signalling a new message.

 

Ah. That explains a lot.

_Chris: I am truly sorry for that message. My teammates thought it would be funny to steal my phone and send this message to random numbers to make me ‘hook up with someone’. Please, delete the picture._

So it was indeed a mistake. He should delete the message and be done with it, forgetting he ever received such an embarrassing text, or ‘sext’? He wasn’t quite sure about the technical jargon. Just as his thumb hovered over the ‘delete’ button he halted in his movement. A spark of curiosity hit him, making him hesitate to remove the message from his phone yet. This was odd.

He was surprised by himself, by how inclined he was to send a reply. Even more surprised by the message he formed a few seconds later. Somehow it shouldn’t, though, as Chris tormented his mind quite frequently. The brunet was the only one to accomplish this. He didn’t waste time to think about other people. Why should he? But Chris. Chris was a permanent part of his waking thoughts.

He was nothing special. A generic man with way too much luck, determination and false bravery. And yet, he found himself intrigued by him.

 

His thumb pressed down on ‘send’.

_-‘It seems like your team lacks discipline. Not a good quality attribute for such a prestigious organisation. It made me wonder if your teammates took that picture of your shirtless body or you took it yourself.’-_

 

Wesker waited for a minute, then gave up and lied down the phone on his bedside table. He wouldn’t spend any more minutes on this absurd activity. Taking off his coat, then the rest of his clothes, he went into the en-suite bathroom to wash out the gel from his hair and change into more comfortable clothes. His mind was occupied with other things as he emerged from the bathroom again and sat down on his bed, having already forgotten about the message entirely. A ping of his phone, however, reminded him of their text conversation.

Curiosity got the better of him and he opened the new message, scanning over it fast.

 

Chris: _I already punished them on the running track. You know I am with the BSAA? Have we met before?_

 

Hn.

He made a small mistake by giving away too much information, but it had been a long, tiring day and the people working beneath him made him lose the last shred of his patience. Heads would certainly roll if they accomplish to make another such huge error.

However, this could still turn out interesting.

 

_-‘Perhaps. But I would rather talk about your mishap. It is quite amusing.’-_

It truly was amusing and he caught himself smiling.

This was really odd. He was far more enthusiastic about this than the upcoming test of the first prototype version of his virus on living subjects. It might have been due to brain damage. Wesker could feel his brain cells die whenever he entered the lab to get an update of his scientists. He caught himself considering working on Uroboros alone a lot lately.

His trail of thought was cut short with another ping of his phone.

 

_Chris: To answer your question. A friend took it while I was working out but I forgot to delete it. You seem to like it._

 

This was quite daring, bordering on flirting, and Wesker’s eyes widened the slightest fraction. He found himself replying right away.

 

_-‘What makes you think I enjoy looking at another man’s body?’-_

 

He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply from Chris; him being the one who clearly enjoyed this conversation.

 

_Chris: Because you are still writing and reading my messages._

_-‘Perhaps I am just bored?’-_

_Chris: Want another one?_

Chris was taking the initiative even, though, he could have been another member of the BSAA or a complete stranger as far as he knew. His recklessness sent off another spark of excitement. He rarely indulged into these things, even less so since he infected himself with the virus. Wesker thought himself free of this weakness, entirely above human desires, but he was not a god yet. It wouldn’t hurt to humour him a bit longer.

 

_-‘Let’s see if you actually manage to make me want to receive more of those pictures.’-_

 

_Chris: I will try my best._

 

This somehow also turned into some sort of competition and he found himself suddenly more intrigued by it. It was perplexing.

His phone signalled a new message shortly after. Wesker settled back into the cushions which were resting against the headboard and opened the new message, raising an eyebrow as he realized it was a close-up picture of Chris’ body from the chest down, shirtless, but otherwise fully clothed.  He expected something more… creative. Nonetheless, he felt his lips twitch.

 

_-‘Is that all? I feel rather uninspired by this.’-_

 

_Chris: I am just getting started._

 

A moment later, Chris sent another picture. This time he was in nothing more than his boxer briefs, the slightest hint of a growing erection forming through the material. An amused smirk hushed over Wesker’s face, ignoring the growing agitation inside him.

 

-‘ _Getting excited rather fast, aren’t we? I can’t say the same.’-_

_Chris: Then I have to try harder._

 

A while later another photo was sent, this time it was Chris with his hand in front of his briefs, slightly grabbing himself through the material, a definite bulge beneath his palm.

A rush of excitement coursed through his body; a pleasant and unfamiliar thrill. He realized with a shock that he wanted this to continue for a bit longer. But then again, something about Chris had always managed to capture his attention and fuel his imagination. Not _this_ way, but right now he was hardly bothered by the change.

 

_Chris: Now your turn._

 

Absolutely not.

 He would never step so low as to send half-nude pictures of himself. His lips thinned at the thought of where this could be leading. He probably should stop it now. But apparently it took him too long to come up with a respond, for Chris sent another message, continuing this mess.

 

_Chris: Okay. You are playing hard to get._

 

This message somehow angered him and he was ready to turn off his phone before he received another one.

 

_Chris: Or maybe I haven’t tried hard enough._

_Chris: I will make this enjoyable for you._

 

Another ping.

 

_Chris: I am already naked_

_Chris: My dick is aching for your hole_

_Chris: Do you want this?_

 

Okay.

Full stop.

No.

This wasn’t going to happen.

He wasn’t going to submit to anyone, and particularly not to someone like Chris.

Not even in a fantasy.

 

_Chris: Would you like to be tied up with a rope?_

_Chris: Unable to move. At my mercy_

 

_No._

He wouldn-

 

Another ping.

 

_Chris: Just think about being restrained_

_Chris: Lying there and I worshipping your body_

 

Worshipping his body. This would have sounded exciting if it weren’t for the other bits. He needed to stop this, turn his phone off.

 

_Chris: I would let my tongue trace up from your navel to your chest_

_Chris: Nipping at your collar bone_

_Chris: Before going higher and kissing your neck_

 

Huh.

Where did he learn to write such things?

 

_Chris: I will let my fingers slide along your sides towards your thighs_

_Chris: And I will keep kissing along your neck_

_Chris: Moving towards the other side_

_Chris: My teeth will skid across your skin there_

 

He was actually getting hard.

 

_Chris: I will flick my tongue over your nipples next_

_Chris: Then biting them. Tracing them again with my tongue_

Hn.

_Chris: My hands will part your legs_

_Chris: My mouth will kiss the insides of your thighs_

_Chris: Followed by my tongue_

_Chris: Slowly getting higher_

 

He forced down a gasp. No one was nearby to witness this, his reactions. Knowing this didn’t stop him from trying to smother any of the sounds which would have escaped his mouth, though. His body was betraying him, fully on board with anything Chris sent him.

_Chris: Will you touch yourself?_

 

He was disgusted with himself for considering going along, but the desire was starting to get overwhelming.

 

_-‘Maybe.”-_

 

Chris’ next reply took a long while and Wesker used the time to bury his hand in his underwear, taking hold of his throbbing erection. This was completely irrational. There was no reason to do this, do as he was asked to. Still, he moved his hand up and down, a quiet moan escaping his lips from the motion.

He needed to destroy his phone afterwards.

 

_Chris: Sorry_

_Chris: Was getting a bit close_

_Chris: Are you stroking yourself?_

 

Wesker’s cheeks burned in embarrassment as he tipped out his reply with a bit of difficulty.

 

_-‘I am.’-_

 

_Chris: Stroke harder_

 

It’s not like he wouldn’t have done that anyway.

 

_Chris: Move a hand up to your mouth_

 

He did as he was told, not yet understanding why.

 

_Chris: Suck on your fingers_

 

_Oh._

Oh, hell no.

Didn’t he even consider other stuff? Hand lotion?

-which was beside the point.

 

Wesker stilled his movements, trying to catch his breath – to no avail. He was already too riled up. But he wasn’t going to do this. Especially not for Chris. This wasn’t going to happen.

How could this man so easily leave his mind in a state of complete confusion? He certainly wasn’t- he certainly wo-

 

_Chris: Are they wet yet?_

 

**He was going to murder him.**

 

_Chris: Hey?_

 

He had to stop this right now. However, he found himself unable to do so and couldn’t tear his eyes away from the phone. He had to make him stop somehow.

On an impulse he moved his thumb up over the screen, hovering above the displayed number. This was not a very wise decision, a foolish act, but it would make this madness stop. This would either result in Chris freaking out or answering it and immediately throwing his phone against the wall. No matter the outcome, it would end this conversation. He had worse plans in the past.

Wesker pressed the ‘call button’.

 

It ringed five times before Chris picked up.

 

 “… Hey?”

That unbelievable idiot. Wesker was sure Chris would have opted for the first option.

 “Hey?”

He sounded breathless, just like himself.

 

“Chris.”

 

A brief pause.

“Wesker.”

 

Then there was silence. Wesker could vividly imagine what was going on in Chris’ head. Denial, disgust, maybe a bit of self-hatred. Trying to re-imagine their whole conversation to kill off his arousal. It would suit the self-righteous hero.

Just as he was about to disconnect the call, finally finishing this conversation, Chris began to talk again.

 

“Fucking asshole.”

How generic and unimaginative. It seemed like lately all Chris could come up with were petty insults.

 

Another pause.

 

“Put me on speaker and start fingering yourself,” came his calm demanding voice. There was also a hint of anger and disgust, but Wesker couldn’t focus on any of this, because he didn’t dare to believe his ears. Did Chris just honestly tell him to continue this?

He was left in utter disbelieve.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

“I won’t repeat myself after this. Start. Fingering. Yourself.”

 

And, my god, he considered doing it; the dark and harsh tone of Chris’ voice sending shivers down his spine. Something about Chris taking over control was very alluring. If he weren’t so turned on already, he would be repulsed by himself.

 

“Wesker,” this time his voice was slightly threatening, indicating his patience was wearing off. Chris was taking full control of the situation and Wesker was never more excited in his entire life. And grossed out by his own behaviour, but there was time for self-loathing later. People would die for this, although right now, he rummaged in his bedside table for any form of lotion.

 

Humiliation burned through his body as he pulled out a small bottle of some kind of lotion. He didn’t care anymore, though. There were no further comments from Chris, being as he probably heard Wesker looking for something. That smug bastard.

 

It was fast work. Popping open the bottle, smearing a good amount onto his fingers and coating them in the thick lotion. Wesker exhaled deeply and shut his eyes close as he reached between his legs.

 Why the hell was he going along with this again?

Wesker’s middle finger experimentally traced the rim of his entrance; his cheeks burning with shame as he did so. With his other hand he supported his weight, lifting himself up a bit to get into a more comfortable position. He bit his lip –he would rather die than let Chris hear him moan from something like this and he didn’t know how he would react to it – and gently pushed the digit inside himself.

A strange feeling. He wouldn’t describe it as pleasant but it didn’t hurt either.

After a deep breath he slowly started to move his finger. Not much of a difference than before. He was wondering why people enjoyed this sort of thing as he decided to try to move his finger a bit deeper. That thought was cut short when his finger brushed up against the bundle of nerves inside of him that made a loud gasp escape his lips.

 

A breathy laugh could be heard from his phone.

“You found it. Go faster.”

 

Wesker could already imagine Chris’ smirk. He would love to punch it off his handsome face. Breaking some of his bones sounded very appealing as well.

 

“Touch yourself,” it sounded wanton, desperate. Imagining your enemy fingering himself had that effect on you, Chris?

Strangely enough, this fact added to his excitement. He guided his other hand to his member and continued his former motions, stroking himself firmly while moving his finger in and out. He alternated between stroking his whole length and rubbing the tip, groaning wantonly and completely forgetting in that moment that Chris was able to hear him. Chris’ next instruction came as soon as he heard Wesker moan.

“Add another finger and finger yourself roughly.” There was a shuffling sound and a soft moan from the man on the other end of the line, clearly jerking off to the mental image of what Wesker was doing to himself.

Slowly, he inserted his second finger, spreading his legs a little wider and moving both his hands faster, making his head fall back into the cushion. Twisting and turning his fingers proved to be very effective and tore a deep moan from his mouth.

 

Chris’ breath hitched after hearing his needy voice.

 

“Don’t come until I tell you to,” came his next command, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

He definitely shuddered after that, putting more pressure on his prostate. In an attempt to delay his approaching orgasm he tortured his length with slower pumps. It didn’t help much. His legs started to visibly shake and his voice grew louder, body writhing, hips moving along with his thrusts and driving down on his fingers.

Remembering that he wanted to avoid Chris hearing his sounds, he struggled anew to swallow them down, gritting his teeth. Wesker soon lost the battle, though, and started crying out, not giving a damn anymore.

 

“Chris!”

 

“Again.” A low growl followed, possessive and dark, making Wesker nearly finish off.

 

“Chris, Chris, Chris.” His name on his tongue became a mantra as he was teetering on the edge of release. Chris sounded like he was close as well, his breaths and grunts audible, echoing through the room and mixing with his own incoherent cries.

 

Just as Wesker couldn’t hold off any longer, relief came in the form of a single word which could be heard through the speaker.

 

“Come.”

 

A startled cry followed and a wave of release washed over Wesker, his release spilling over his chest, coating his hand. His mouth parted in a silent gasps and his eye brows furrowed as he rode out his orgasm.

 

He was left slick and breathless, falling against his bed and shutting out anything happening around him. After several long moments of merely trying to breathe, Wesker blindly reached out for his phone. He was too exhausted to move his body to properly look for it.

The line was silent but the call still connected.

It didn’t seem like Chris would continue their conversation or say anything at all anytime soon.

 

“Tell me, Chris,” started Wesker, his voice a soft murmur, still trying to regain his composure, “Do you enjoy this sort of activity with your other enemies?”

He could hear a scoff, Chris clearly displeased with the teasing tone in Wesker’s voice.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Typical.

A grin spread across his face. Wesker was uncertain why he found this idea so alluring, but it didn’t stop him from replying with, “Name a place and time.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have ideas for other one-shots, I am open for (mostly) anything.


End file.
